


Bed Rest

by Taimat



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 21:38:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11299356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taimat/pseuds/Taimat
Summary: “Surely there's nothing I can do for you beyond what our healers have. If it's healing you need, you should be back in the infirmary.”Estinien shakes his head and grips Alphinaud's hand ever-tighter. His gaze, when it meets Alphinaud's again, is certain. Unwavering. “I need you to heal my soul.”(Spoilers for the ending of HW, if you know what to look for.)





	Bed Rest

Alphinaud bites back a curse and nearly drops the glass of mulled wine, along with the tome he'd been carrying.

From his bed, Estinien chuckles, a low, throaty sound that makes Alphinaud's blood start to boil despite himself.

“L-Lord Estinien! You're supposed to be recovering!” The young man's hands tremble, and he barely makes it to his desk before the dropping everything.

“You've got quite the mouth on you,” Estinien growls in reply, “but I already knew that.”

“Oh, for the love of—“ Alphinaud hurries to close the door to his room, because if Estinien won't leave (and it looks as though he's made himself rather comfortable), then at least he can cloister the pair of them from prying eyes. “What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the infirmary?”

Estinien hums and shifts, rolling onto his belly and staring across the room to where Alphinaud seems to have rooted himself. “I was. But I no longer am. I'm well enough to walk across the halls.”

“My lord, you...” Alphinaud swallows, “You nearly died. I couldn't... I can't...”

The taller man grumbles and swings his legs off the side of the bed, sitting up fully and bracing his elbows upon his knees. “Tell me, what is it you can't do? You can't take advantage of me? You aren't. I came here on my own. You can't let me exert myself? I've already done that, and I'm hardly going to confine myself to bed just because you will it.”

He's apparently in a mood, and Alphinaud claps a hand over his eyes so at least he doesn't have to stare at the man. Estinien is wearing only his loose, hempen underthings. Where he's usually quite prickly, both inside and out, now he seems...soft. Vulnerable.

Alphinaud won't let appearances be deceiving. He won't be swayed. He won't be—

He peeks through his fingers.

“There you are. I thought I'd have to go searching for you.”

Alphinaud flushes. He won't be talked to as a child. He can hear the light, teasing tone in Estinien's voice. Most people probably wouldn't have been able to, excluding of course Lord Aymeric, but after spending so much time journeying together, it had been impossible not to become better at reading the man's signs. Prickly as he is.

With a deep sigh, Alphinaud spares a glance at the work he'd brought in with him. He has a sinking feeling that none of it will be getting done, tonight. Estinien is the picture of determination right now, and Alphinaud knows that he'll at least have to spend time talking to the older elezen, if nothing else.

Definitely nothing else.

Alphinaud swallows.

“Why aren't you resting?” he tries again.

“Again with this,” Estinien grumbles, throwing himself backwards on the bed dramatically. “There's nothing else they can do for me that they haven't done already, and I'm tired of being poked and prodded and harassed.”

“Lor—“ Alphinaud snaps his jaw shut, takes a moment, and tries a different angle. “Estinien.” That gets him a solid gaze, at least. “Why are you here, of all places?”

Estinen bristles. “Where else would I go?”

“To see Lord Aymeric, mayhaps?”

Estinien waves a hand idly. “He's much too busy for me right now.”

“You know that's not true.”

Estinien huffs and turns onto his side. He won't meet Alphinaud's gaze, anymore.

“He always has time for you. And I'm sure that, if you're truly feeling better, he'd be happy to know that.”

There's a pause that stretches between the two of them, tension pulling more tightly until Alphinaud is tempted to say something, anything, to get it to snap.

“Do you not want me here?” comes the soft question, finally, and the tone is like a lance to Alphinaud's heart. He doesn't know if Estinien is doing it on purpose, but yes or no, the effect is the same.

“That's not what I meant! I merely...” he closes his eyes, giving himself a moment, “Why me?”

Estinien snorts. “Don't play dumb. You know why I'm here.”

And that makes Alphinaud flush, though he powers through. “I...had gathered, yes. But you can't—“

“Don't.”

It's soft, so soft, and it makes Alphinaud pause. “Estinien? What's really going on?” He strides over slowly, carefully, like the dragoon is a wounded animal he's trying not to frighten off, and maybe, he thinks, the comparison is more apt than he'd previously guessed. Gracefully, he sits on the edge of the bed, not touching the other man, and waits.

After long moments, Estinien sighs. “There's nothing else they can do for me. My body will heal. But I...my...”

He hadn't meant to, but Alphinaud finds himself extending a hand, reaching for Estinien's own and clasping it, and perhaps most surprisingly, Estinien grips his hand back.

“I can still feel it. I can still see it, trapped behind the window of my own mind. Fighting uselessly.” Estinien seems to choke up, and Alphinaud waits patiently. “Whenever I close my eyes, when I'm overcome with exhaustion and can stay awake no longer, it consumes me, and I fear... I fear...” He breaks off again, and Alphinaud marvels at the immense amount of trust Estinien is placing in him. He's never seen the other man quite like this, so unguarded, and he wants to handle this right. He must be careful, so careful. And so, despite his previous protestations, he lays one hand on Estinien's head, petting at his soft hair, trying to stroke some calmness into him.

“What do you need from me, Estinien?”

Estinien gasps a little and squeezes Alphinaud's hand as though he's steeling himself. And maybe he is. He's not the kind of person to ask directly for favors and the like. But nevertheless, Alphinaud waits.

“Heal me.”

Alphinaud blinks. “Surely there's nothing I can do for you beyond what our healers have. If it's healing you need, you should be back in the infirmary.”

Estinien shakes his head and grips Alphinaud's hand ever-tighter. His gaze, when it meets Alphinaud's again, is certain. Unwavering. “I need you to heal my soul.”

If he'd been carrying anything at that moment, he surely would have dropped it. As it stands, Alphinaud gasps rather loudly, staring at Estinien as if in shock. Of all the things he'd expected the man to say, that had certainly not been one of them.

“How can I serve you?” is the only thing he can find it in himself to say.

It must have been the right thing, though, because Estinien's mouth quirks up in a soft smile. “You know what I want.”

Alphinaud shakes his head. “I couldn't possibly... You can't, Estinien. Not now.”

“Why is that?” His eyes are hard again. Stubborn.

“You're supposed to be resting. I can't have you laboring over me and exerting yourself unduly.” Surely that had been direct enough.

But despite Alphinaud's protests, Estinien tugs him over and on top of him, the taller elezen's body a welcoming cradle for Alphinaud. “Is that your only objection? That I'll be wearing myself out?”

Alphinaud can't stop himself from stroking at Estinien's hair again. “My Lord, I wouldn't refuse you otherwise.”

With a huff, Alphinaud could swear Estinien is veritably pouting up at him, though the dragoon would certainly never admit to such a thing. “Then...” Estinien squirms underneath him, which does all sorts of funny things to Alphinaud's insides, “take me.”

“Pardon me?” Alphinaud wonders what other world he's somehow stumbled into.

“Don't make me repeat myself. If that's truly your only concern, then you can take me. I'll just lie back and...rest.”

And oh, the self-satisfied smirk on Estinien's face shouldn't be as kissable as it is, but Alphinaud cannot say no. With a groan, he sinks onto the other man, their lips finally brushing, pressing close. He's just as delicious as Alphinaud remembers. The feel, the taste of him, the smell and the feel of him, everything that Alphinaud feared he'd never be able to experience again. But against all odds, Estinien had lived. He'd lived to let himself into Alphinaud's rooms and into his bed. And he wanted him. Him. Of all people.

They were no longer at camp nor on the road, and Estinien's choices were now far less limited. But nonetheless, he'd sought out Alphinaud. He'd asked for Alphinaud. He's rocking against and desperately kissing Alphinaud. And by the Twelve if Alphinaud isn't going to reciprocate. To be wanted, to be needed, lights him on fire.

It takes little effort to slot their hips together, though they're forced to break the kiss due to the difference in height. Beneath him, Estinien sighs like the sweetest music Alphinaud's ever heard, those small sounds of pleasure. Estinien had never been very loud, and neither had he, owing to the circumstances of their previous trysts, and hearing him now is heady. It makes Alphinaud grind harder against him, and Estinien moans.

“Right,” Alphinaud groans. “Are you sure, my lord?”

“Don't call me that. Not here. Not now.”

“Yes. My apologies.” He rocks against Estinien as if to prove how sorry he is; as if to make amends. “You're sure?”

“Very,” the dragoon growls. “I need you. Don't make me wait.”

“We need...” Alphinaud tries to extricate himself from Estinien's limbs and nearly ends up tripping onto the floor. “We need oil. I'll just...” He bites his lip when one of Estinien's hands ends up between his legs, petting and stroking before Alphinaud can leave the bed. “L-Let me...” He whimpers.

“All right. But only because you look so pretty.”

Alphinaud shakes his head to try and clear it when Estinien finally lets him go and stumbles toward his bedside table. There's a glass bottle there that he needs now. (And has needed many nights before, alone in his room, to be honest.) His hands shake only a little as he rummages through the drawer, making more noise than he's sure is necessary. But desperate times, and all...

By the time he's found what he's looking for and turned back around, Estinien has made himself completely, gloriously naked, and is lying on Alphinaud's bed, stroking himself. The moment he notices Alphinaud staring, he spreads his legs a little and licks his lips.

Alphinaud groans. “Fury take me,” he mumbles out before scampering back to the bed.

“Ah,” Estinien raises a finger. “No clothing allowed.”

“It's my own bed!” And maybe that had sounded a little petulant, but really...

Estinien raises a brow. “You are truly willing to fight with me on this?”

After a moment's pause, Alphinaud decides that no, no he really isn't. Sighing, he tosses the little bottle onto the bed and starts removing his outfit, piece by piece. While he does so, as if either much too bored or much too excited, it's difficult to tell, Estinien uncaps the bottle and starts to prepare himself, delicious moans filtering through the air and making Alphinaud scrabble at his buckles even faster. Why oh why did he have so many clasps and things?

He finally flings the last of it to the side with a triumphant little cry and climbs onto the bed.

“It's about time.” Though it's worded as a complaint, it comes out as just a small sigh, since Estinien is quite busy working himself open already. Once Alphinaud climbs between his spread legs, he finds the dragoon already has two fingers pushed inside himself, and the mere sight of it makes him heady.

This is really happening. Estinien wants him to... He's going to... Oh...

“Why don't you come closer and lend a hand, as it were?” Estinien chuckles at his own joke, of which he makes precious few. “While I could do this all by myself, it would be more fun with two.”

Alphinaud pauses for a moment. This is something entirely new between them. Every time before, Estinien had been the one in control, the one on top, but this...this is different. Even if he is being rather bossy, still. Some things, it seems, will never change.

Trembling, Alphinaud stretches his arm out, swallowing hard and allowing one finger to brush at the rim of Estinien's entrance, already stretched wide by his own fingers. The reaction he gets isn't what he expects. Estinien moans, loudly, and lets his knees part further so Alphinaud has more room to work. And maybe he isn't the best leader, the best commander, but in this, he can take charge. He can do this. And so he swallows, letting the last of his nerves fall by the wayside, and presses a slim finger in alongside Estinien's.

Estinien cries out, and the sound nestles somewhere deep in Alphinaud's chest, a sound he'll never forget. It's impassioned and joyous and so needy that it boosts his confidence and makes him rock forward, crooking his finger and searching for the spot deep inside the other man that will make him come undone. He needs it, he realizes. He needs to see Estinien's face wracked with pleasure the same way he needs to breathe.

“Yes,” the taller man hisses out. “So good. I'll show you just how to fuck me. Don't be nervous.”

Alphinaud chuckles. Just moments ago, he had been exactly that. Nervous. Tentative. But now, now he feels powerful. He has this beautiful elezen's pleasure literally within his grasp, and by the Twelve, he won't let Estinien down.

“Are you ready, my lord?” He does it on purpose, this time, just to see that small pout.

“Don't call, oh, mm...” Estinien shivers on his hand, then spreads his own fingers wide, wide enough that Alphinaud can feel how stretched and ready he is. “Inside me. Now.”

Alphinaud takes little more prompting. He can do this.

It takes little effort to coat himself with oil and press inside. They've done good work with preparations, the two of them, and the slide forward is effortless. Estinien bows his back as Alphinaud moves, releasing little cries as he does so, each one more precious than the last.

“That's it. Deep. Good. Just like that.”

Obeying, Alphinaud pushes until he's fully seated within him, and the pair takes a moment to just enjoy it, the feeling rapturous.

“Good. Good, Alphinaud. Now move.” Estinien is demanding, bossy, still a little grumbly, but he's perfect and Alphinaud wouldn't have it any other way. And so he withdraws a little, then rocks forward, and it feels like he's punched the breath out of Estinien, as the man releases a soft cry and bucks upward. “Like...like that. Angle yourself so that...hn...” Estinien scrabbles at his hips, and Alphinuad lets him, lets himself be tugged and adjusted while Estinien bucks up against him to get the perfect angle.

After a few moments of this, he decides that, while he may be smaller and younger, he's not incompetent, and he reaches down to hoist one of Estinien's legs over his shoulder in a move that clearly surprises the dragoon, if the expression on his face is anything to go by. Then together, they work and move to find the place that Estinien likes best, which he announces with a breathy gasp that winds down into a groan when Alphinaud thrusts forward at the same angle.

“There?”

“T-there. Yes.”

And then Alphinaud takes charge, panting with the exertion of holding Estinien in this position as well as pistoning his hips forward and back, breaching the other man's body again and again to Estinien's glowing review. His voice seems to have left him, now that Alphinaud is fucking him the way he likes, but he still offers up the occasional moan or whine. A deep flush spreads down his long, graceful neck, and he claws at the bed sheets to try and work himself harder against Alphinaud's hips.

He's exquisite. The most beautiful thing Alphinaud has ever seen.

And when he finally comes, the feeling of accomplishment nearly outweighs the feeling of pleasure in Alphinaud's belly. Watching Estinien writhe on his cock is rapturous, and he almost forgets about chasing his own orgasm until Estinien clamps down around him, a growled, “Come inside me,” dissolving all thought from his brain except the need to drive inward harder and faster.

Estinien cries out with every movement, clearly exhausted but wanting more, and he moans right alongside Alphinaud when the smaller man fills him up, his seed painting his insides, and then he trembles and goes still, save for his panting breaths and the occasional shiver. Alphinaud might worry, were it not for the immensely self-satisfied smile on his face.

Dutifully, since he's not the one who's supposed to be confined to bed rest, Alphinaud cleans the pair of them up with his own stash of cleaning cloths so that he doesn't have to run to the baths, as interesting as that would be in his post-orgasmic haze. And then he crawls back into bed, the pair of them still somewhat sweaty and still very tired, but the smile on Estinien's face is radiant, so Alphinaud thinks he must have done something right.

The softly whispered, “Thank you,” confirms it.


End file.
